


See You One Last Time

by AoYokai



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1436596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AoYokai/pseuds/AoYokai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years after he left No.6, Nezumi returns, looking for Shion. Shion, however, can no longer look for him. One-shot. Contains disability of main characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See You One Last Time

**Author's Note:**

> A\N: English is not my native language, I’m sorry for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes that might be ahead.   
> It’s a *fan*fiction, therefore--> I’m a fan and not the actual owner of No. 6. I also got the idea(s) from no6headcanons, on tumblr.   
> WARNING: this fic contains some disabled main characters. 

Nezumi walked through the streets with wide eyes. He have never had a chance to examine No. 6 as he ran away from the Security Bureau as a kid, or when he raced to save Shion from the same threat, four years later. And yet, Nezumi could tell the difference between the old Holy City and the new one. The first and most obvious change was the colors. The once white or gray walls were now a canvas for thousands of different shades that danced together and created magnificent street art. On the roads’ sides, there were now flowers, grass and little trees that gave a fresh fragrance of life.   
The second thing Nezumi noticed was the noise. Laughter, screams, conversations; random, chaotic sounds that could not be found in the old, strictly planned No. 6. And there was music, too. Before he left, arts, of all types and kinds, were considered as a useless waste of manpower and a potential trigger of revolts. For that reason, No. 6’s government made sure that arts would be… uncommon inside the walls. And yet there was music, and there were paintings on the walls, and Nezumi knew that if he would go further, he would find much, much more.  
But Nezumi have heard better music, saw better street art, and walked through prettier streets. None of these things were the reason for his visit. He came to see Shion. It was a simple reason, with little importance or effect on the large picture. Nothing like a tumultuous journey that will change the world and destroy everything in the way of love. It was a modest, private act, which existed only in Nezumi and Shion’s world.   
Nezumi walked quickly, keeping up with a dog Inukashi lend him in order to find Shion’s house. His heart bit a little faster with every step. Four years were a long time, Shion could have moved on, he could have changed, he could have hated Nezumi. Nezumi tried to push these thoughts away and focus on the lively West Block and its residents, who enjoyed their weekend. They reached Shion’s house quickly, a two story building with a little garden, located in the center of the district. Nezumi inhaled and walked to the door.   
Nezumi would never admit it, but he missed Shion more than he thought. Shion always haunted him throughout these four years, be it in sleep or in his vigil. He thought that when he will put No. 6 in his past, Shion would go with it. Unfortunately, he was wrong, and he had to go through a long, tiring battle against his own mind to find that truth.   
The door was obviously locked, so Nezumi turned to the window next to it. It opened. Still an airhead. Nezumi smiled to himself and slipped inside. What he saw took his breath away. Books, lots of them. Nezumi could not see the walls at all, only books, a couch, and coffee table, with even more books on it. Nezumi looked at one of the shelves, gently caressing the spines of the books on it. Shion expanded my collection, He noticed, smiling fondly.   
Roof!   
Nezumi jumped out of his skin, as a big white dog ran into the room and started barking at him. A dog?! Nezumi panicked, he tried to reach the dog, to shut it up somehow, but exactly when he touched it, Shion entered the room.   
He was beautiful. Nezumi missed everything about him. His hair, his eyes, his scar, his expressions, his small body, his voice. Nezumi’s fears and anxiety left him immediately, replaced by fondness and yearning.   
“Lala?” Shion stood at the door and looked inside. Nezumi’s heart stopped with anticipation to Shion’s response, but he just crouched next to his dog and petted it.   
“What’s wrong sweetheart?”   
Nezumi was amazed. Even more airheaded than before. He thought. How could he not see me?!   
“Shion.” Nezumi caught his attention with a soft whisper. Shion lifted his and looked at him.   
“Nezumi?” He blinked.   
“It’s been a while.” He smiled awkwardly. Shion stood up.   
“Is that really you?” He questioned, not looking at Nezumi’s face, but somewhere below.   
“It’s me.” He stepped closer and pulled Shion into his embrace. “It’s me.”   
Shion lowered his head and put his hands on Nezumi’s chest. A familiar scent filled his lungs. Nezumi’s scent. “Nezumi…”   
Shion started crying. He cried for a few minutes calling Nezumi’s name again and again, as Nezumi caressed his hair gently.   
“I’m not leaving again, Shion.” He whispered, “I promise.”   
“Don’t say that.” Shion answered sadly, “You can’t promise me that.”   
“Shion?” Nezumi, a little hurt and very confused by Shion’s words, jerked his eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.   
“I wish I could see you one last time, Nezumi.” He said eventually, and Nezumi was almost dumbfounded by his words.   
“You can, and not one last time. Forever.” He said, cupping Shion’s chin and lifting his face to look directly at him, “See?”   
“No.” Shion replied simply.   
“What do you mean by no?” Nezumi asked irritably.   
“I’m blind, Nezumi.” Shion smiled a weak, frail smile.   
“Bl...ind...?” Nezumi hardly repeated. He looked at his eyes, they looked fine. Shion must be playing some stupid game with him. He cannot be telling the truth.   
“I’m happy you’re back, Nezumi.” He said with a smile, touching the other’s face with his cold, slender fingers.   
“Blind?!” Nezumi finally understood the weight of Shion’s words, “What do you mean by blind?!”   
“As in a person who can’t see.” Shion answered with confusion, “What else could I mean?”   
“You’re not blind…” Nezumi refused to accept what Shion said, “You can’t be…”   
Shion hugged Nezumi and said softly, “I’m sorry.”   
“For what?” Nezumi hugged him back, still digesting the reality before him. He was in too much pain to accept this. He came back. Shion was here. Everything was supposed to be fine now.   
“For making you feel pain…?” Shion asked more than he answered, because he was not really sure what he was sorry for.   
“Stupid.” Nezumi scolded. “How…?”   
“It’s kind of a long story…”   
“I have time.”  
They sat on the couch together, not touching but still quite close.   
“In the first year after you left,” Shion explained, “Yoming was the most influential figure in No. 6’s politics. He had hundreds of followers that were carried by his charisma and his personal story. But he was too radical, his approach was too extreme. He was so busy with his hatred to the city that he completed a circle and started to create a city that is exactly the same as the one he loathed so much. So, I… made my own version of the way in which he put some of No. 6’s money in his own pocket.”   
“You faked files?!” Nezumi cried with surprise.   
“Well, the files existed somewhere! I didn’t have time to look for them!” He defended, but then continued the explanation. “Yoming’s close followers didn’t have a problem with that, as long as they kept their positions. His other followers, those who didn’t know him personally… They didn’t really like my trick.”   
Shion took a deep breath. “So, one day, when I walked back home, some of them…”   
He did not need to finish the sentence, Nezumi knew the rest. He hugged Shion and pushed him into his chest. “Oh, Shion…”   
“I was in the hospital for a few days,” He continued with a steady voice, “I broke almost every bone in my body. But it was repairable. This, however…” He pointed at his head.   
“Cortical blindness. My occipital cortex was severely damaged. My eyes are fine, though, it’s my brain that can’t take the information and build a picture with it.”   
Silence.   
“I’m fine though!” He tried to calm Nezumi. “I still work at the Committee, and the whole story gave me more support, actually. I was able to build a better No. 6, or so I hope. Lala helps me around the city, and I can walk by myself inside of the house. It’s like the night where we first met, and you mocked me for not being able to find my way in my own room just because it’s dark…Well I can. I’m fine, I really am.”  
Nezumi did not know what to say. Shion was hurt, and he could do nothing to stop it. If he stayed, maybe he could have protected Shion. But he did not, and Shion got hurt. And now, Shion sat right next to him, comforting him. Comforting him even though the one that was hurt was himself. Nezumi had to do something, even if it was too late. He had to pay for leaving Shion, for letting him get hurt, for letting him go through this without him. He did not just have to, he wanted to. More than anything else.   
“When I first arrived at No. 5, it was raining.” He started talking, “But the streets were lightened up with neon in every color you could imagine. The buildings were really tall, so tall you couldn’t see their end from the ground. It was a very well-known architecture before the apocalypse, called ‘skyscrapers’. This type of building is supposed to support large populations, like No. 5’s, without much land. These are pretty ugly buildings, actually. They have lots of windows, but they still look like huge, gray, pieces of metal. But the lights, especially with the rain, made even those gray plain buildings look beautiful.”   
They sat like that, in each other’s arms, for a few hours. Nezumi talked about the cities he visited and the road in between, and Shion laid his head on his chest, and listened carefully to the detail descriptions. When he was done, Nezumi stood up leaving Shion alone on the couch.   
“Nezumi?” He asked.   
“Where did you put Macbeth?” Nezumi’s voice reached him from nearby.   
“I don’t remember,” He answered, his tone dripping sarcasm, “Last time I saw it was… three years ago.”   
“Oh.” Nezumi said, “Sorry about that.”   
“What are you doing, anyway?” Shion questioned.   
“Looking for a book.” He said as he drew a book out of the shelf and sat next to Shion again.   
“Why?” Shion placed his head on Nezumi’s shoulder.   
“To read, obviously.”   
“Now?” Shion asked.   
“Well, I bet you couldn’t read any of these in a while.” Nezumi answered. He read a book after a book, Shion in his arms, with his eyes shut, listening to Nezumi’s voice and heartbeats as he read.  
“It’s getting late.” Nezumi informed. “It’s dark outside.”   
“Nezumi?” Shion whispered.   
“What is it?”   
“Did you do all of this reading and storytelling so you can leave again with a peaceful heart?”   
“No!” He said quickly, “The opposite! It’s a commitment.”   
“A commitment?”   
“Yes. You’ll have to get rid of this dog, though. I hate dogs. You don’t need a guide dog anyway.”   
“You’re overestimating my instincts.” Shion said with amusement.   
“I would never trust your instincts in first place.” He replied, “You don’t need a guide dog, because I’ll be your eyes from now on.”   
“M-My eyes?” Shion repeated, puzzled.   
“Yes,” He said, “Let me give you another example.”   
Nezumi pushed Shion with his back to the couch and bent over him.   
“I’m leaning over you.” He said.   
“I figured.” Shion replied, trying to hide his blush as much as possible.   
“Now I’m leaning to kiss your right cheek.” Nezumi did as he said, and then lifted himself to his former position.   
“Now I’m leaning to kiss your left cheek.” Again, he stayed true to his description.   
“You’re just using this as an excuse.” Shion complained, though he did not mind Nezumi’s actions.   
“Want me to describe other things? Okay, I can do that.” Nezumi took a second to think.   
“I’m taller now. And so are you. I’m wearing a black shirt I bought in No. 3, and olive-colored traveling pants.”   
“You don’t really need to describe that…” Shion sighed.   
“What do you want me to describe, then?”   
“I…” Shion stumbled upon his word, “I’m not sure.”   
He went silent, a thoughtful expression on his face. After a while he said, “Your eyes?”   
“My eyes?” Nezumi blinked, “Of all things, my eyes?”   
“I’m sorry, it’s stupid.” Shion regretted immediately, “It’s just that… Your eyes are the first thing that made an impression on me, I guess.” 

“Well…” Nezumi began, “They’re gray, but I suppose you noticed. Ummm… And they have your reflection in them, I guess.”   
Suddenly, Nezumi knew what to say.   
“And they’re filled with happiness, affection, and desire.” Nezumi regretted saying that sentence the second it escaped his lips and reached his ears, crushing him with the understanding of how embarrassing it sounded.   
“I don’t think I know what eyes that are filled with such things look like…” Shion wondered, completely oblivious to Nezumi’s embarrassment.   
“Airhead.” Nezumi spit, “This is happiness.”   
He gently put his lips on Shion’s.   
“This is affection.”   
This time the kiss was much more passionate, even more passionate than the vow they made four years ago.   
“This is desire.”   
Nezumi whispered seductively against Shion’s lips, before he attacked them once more. The kiss was even more passionate now, more intense, and it lasted longer. Shion’s mind became blurry, and he could not think about anything but Nezumi, who seemed to prove quite well that he was able to describe everything in the world for Shion, that way or the other.   
When they finally separated, Nezumi did not lift himself again, he just lay down directly on Shion.   
“Nezumi?” Shion broke the silence.   
“What?”   
“I love you.”   
“Idiot. I love you, too.”   
“Are you blushing?”   
“No.”   
“Are my eyes telling me lies?”   
“Shut up.”   
Shion smiled and did as he was told. After a while, though, he spoke again.   
“Nezumi?”   
“What now?”   
“It’s not ‘this dog’, her name is Lala, and she’s staying.”  
~~The End~~


End file.
